Haymitch's Hunger Games
by unspvken
Summary: We all know the drunken mentor Haymitch Abernathy, but how did he become how he is now? How did he survive the 50th hunger games?
1. The Reaping

The day comes where President Snow announces what's going to be different in the quarter quell. Twice as many tributes will enter the arena. Twice as many kids will fight. Twice as many tributes will die, will be slaughtered by their allies and fellow districts. And yet when the people of the capitol hear this, they erupt into applause.

I don't just not like the reaping, I hate it. I loathe the way that Argus Maximilian talks, when announcing the death sentence of another tribute of district 12, I despise the people of the capitol, and I detest how Caesar Flickerman can be so happy when he is interviewing the tributes. For the Capitol, the games are entertainment, a way to get their minds off of the people of the capitol and into the personal lives of the districts. For the people in district twelve, the games are the funeral for those tributes, those unlucky 2. If you are picked for the reaping, you don't stand a chance against the careers. So when I hear that twice as many tributes are picked, my stomach drops.

The reaping comes faster than expected. Before I know it, Argus is up on stage, this year with a bright orange shirt with a frilly collar, matching Caesar Flickerman's hair. As he introduces himself and plays the short video on the capitol, I can't help but notice his smile. It's looks like he's going to puke, the way that smile is plastered on his face. I heard in the Capitol, they have this surgery where they can make you look younger. He's been the announcer for district 12 since the beginning, which makes him around 70, but he looks like he's 40. I bet that's why he looks so terrible.

Argus taps the mic with his strangely tinted hand, this year a light shade of pink. The people in the capitol choose to dye their skin different colors, whether it be blue, orange, red, or green; I think it makes them look absolutely terrifying not to mention terribly unattractive. Argus begins to speak in a strangely masculine voice that doesn't quite match his look: "Good morning district twelve! What a wonderful video from our very own, President Snow! Let's give a round of applause…" He waits for us to join in with his applause, but everyone stays silent. "Alright, should we begin? Yes, here we go. I'm going to start with the men this year." He reaches his polished hand into the bowl, and pulls out the first name. He clears his throat, eyes scanning the crowd, "Hector Maclay."

Movement catches my eye to the right, as I see a boy a lot younger than me move to the front. As I catch his eye, I see a tear glisten down his cheek. He knows he's going to die, since he's only 13, not to mention from the lowest district. He walks up on stage, shakes Argus's hand, and walks next to the mentor, Luka. Argus picks up the mic again.

"Welcome Hector! I'm so glad you can join us! Now for the second tribute," He takes another name, again from the boys. "Haymitch Abernathy." Everyone around me looks at me, and takes a step away from me. I walk to the front, as fellow classmates and friends pat me on the back sympathetically. I catch my girlfriend Gwendolen's eye, and her face is red and filled with tears. My younger brother Tristan is turned around and embracing my mother. I walk, silently, up those creaky steps and onto the stage. I shake Argus's sweaty hand, as he gives me a smile that makes me regret even looking at his face. Our mentor Luka seems completely out of it, but he catches my eye and shakes my hand. His hand is limp and cold.

Luka had won one of the first hunger games accidentally. He was one of the most ignorant tributes that had ever been in the arena but had the best luck. In the bloodbath, he took off with no food, water, or weapons, but only after 10 minutes of running he came across a deserted area with a backpack filled with food and a knife, and was next to a running stream, which just so happened was the only water source in the arena. Since Luka was so tall, no one went near him, which made about ¾ of the tributes die of dehydration.

About a week later, when Luka was part of the last five, the announcer told all the tributes that at the cornucopia there was a way to win the hunger games, he decided to go there. In the midst of the scramble to get there, he met the pack of careers, who decided it was better to kill him off before getting to the cornucopia. Luka had no experience in combat, but when the careers came after him, Luka stabbed one of them with his knife. The other two hit each other accidentally, and both were killed in the confusion. After hearing the two cannons Luka turned to face his final combatant. He ran towards him, tripped on a rock, and fell on him. Luka was knocked unconscious, but was so heavy that the final career could not get him off, and Luka suffocated him. The final cannon sounded, and the first tribute from district twelve ever to return from the hunger games went home. Since then, there has been no one who has won the hunger games from district 12. No mentors but Luka.

Suddenly I hear Argus' voice, pulling me back into reality. "Now for the girls. The first female tribute is...Eris Tacy." A small girl from the Seam walks through the crowd and toward the stage. I've never seen her before, but she looks to be about 14. I look for signs of fear or disbelief or even anger in her, but there is nothing. Her face is blank.

Once she takes her place on the stage, Argus reaches his hand back into the girl's bowl to pick the fourth and final tribute from district twelve. He holds up the slip of paper and reads: "Maysilee Donner." I recognize Maysilee as she breaks free of the grip of two sobbing girls and walks up onto the stage. I think she used to be my friend at school when I was young. She's around my age, and as she turns to take her place next to Eris our eyes lock. I can tell immediately she's not one of the usual idiots picked. Maysilee's not accepting death; like me, she's ready to fight for survival.

I take one last look at the audience. At my girlfriend. She's wiping her tears, trying to stay together for my family. For me.

I sit in an ornate room in the Justice Building, in front of which the reaping was held ten minutes ago. I know that I can't say more than a quick goodbye to my girlfriend and my family. I'm certain that if I spend too much time with them it will be that much harder to leave, and I need to be emotionally prepared for anything once I leave. If I don't start planning and thinking now, I'll have no shot at winning, and I need to win. I sit in my chair and watch the door, waiting for what will be the worst thing that I've even had to go through.

First Gwendolen comes, nervously walking through the door. She's holding on, but barely. I stand up, and she crosses over to me. We stand like that for a second, then she falls into my arms as silent tears stream down her face. I hold her tightly and press my lips to hers, tasting the salt from her tears, then I pull back and look into her dark gray eyes, but she bites her lip and looks away. "Look at me," I whisper. "Look at me. I'm going to come back. I will come back to you. Now you have to go."

She walks to the door before turning and saying, so quietly I have to strain to hear it, "I love you."

"I love you too," I answer. Then she's gone.

I barely have time to recollect myself before my mother and Tristan walk in. Tristan runs up and hugs me, telling me that he won't let me go, he won't let me leave district twelve. My mother just stands and stares at me, still with the same horrified expression on her face as when Argus first called my name. Hard to believe that was only fifteen minutes ago. I grab my mom's hands. "Don't worry," I say. "I'll be back. I'll win and come back and we'll all have extra food and we'll be able to live in a nice house in Victor's Village."

My mom looks at me and chokes out: "I just don't want to lose you. I love you."

"You can't leave!" Tristan cries.

"I have to Tristan," I say as gently as I can. I tuck his blonde hair behind his ear, and look into his blue-grey eyes. "I love you both. Take care of eachother. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," my mom says, and drags Tristan out of the room. Then I am all alone. I made it through the goodbyes, but this is just the beginning. The beginning of the 50th hunger games.


	2. The Train

My visiting hours are over. The peacekeepers come into my room, and escort me to the train. I get one last glance at Tristan and my mother, but can't find my girlfriend. I think to myself that it's good that I don't get to see her, or I won't be focused when it comes to winning the games. I need to be focused so I can see who my competitors are, or who my allies should be.

I take one last look at district 12 and step inside the most expensive place I've been in my life. The train is something I've only dreamed of. The carpets glitter like they're made of pure gold. There are tables covered in black velvet every few feet filled with the richest food I've seen in my life.

"C'mon guys, this won't be too bad," Hector says wiping a tear from his face, voice trembling, "We'll get to live like kings for a few days. Plus, I heard we get our own rooms with our own avoxes. We'll be living better than citizens in the Capitol!"

"Are you serious? We only get to live like this because in about a week, we are going to fight each other and kids from other districts to the death," I snap back at him. I have always been eager to fight. In district twelve I was one of the kids who would pick fights with almost everyone, including the teachers. I've never fought Hector, maybe because he would be too easy to beat. I make a note to kill Hector first in the games. Then he'll see who's living like a king.

Then a warm hand on my shoulder takes me by surprise. I turn to face the person who was touching me, expecting to see Argus. Instead I meet a familiar face, Maysilee. "Haymitch, I think you need to calm down. I know we should focus on the games, but we got reaped only an hour ago. We haven't even met out mentor. We-" She is cut off by Luka stumbling into the room.

"Who was talking about me?" He asks. He immediately locks eyes with me. Everyone stays silent, waiting for him to speak again. "Well, it doesn't matter. Hello, I'm Luka. I'll be the person who keeps you alive in the games. Now, I'm starving, so let's sit down and eat." He sits and stuffs his face with bread, seemingly forgotten how to use a knife and fork.

Once all of us sit down, the avoxes come in with pasta with little balls of spiced meat. As I wait for my food to cool, I inspect the other tributes in the room more closely. I first examine Hector, who doesn't seem like much of a threat, since he's about 13. He has straight brown hair, which falls over his face. His eyes are startling blue, and he has freckles that cover his face. His face is red and splotchy, which shows he's been crying too much. He obviously is weak, which makes him an easy target in the games. I already hate him, and I've only talked to him once.

Next I look at Eris. She has the dark coloring of a girl from the Seam, but her eyes are brown instead of gray. Light brown, with little golden flecks near the center. She still shows no expression on her face. Either she's just really stunned, or part of her strategy is to conceal her emotions. I've seen some tributes do that before, but sometimes it backfires since the people in the Capitol like to feel "connected" to the tributes they sponsor. It's going to take a little while to figure Eris out.

Last I examine Maysilee. She definitely looks like a town girl, with her blond hair and blue eyes. She seems kind of sad, but still calm and collected. She swirls her fork in her food with pursed lips and furrowed brows. Either she will be a valuable ally, or a dangerous enemy.

I take a bite of my food, which is considerably cooled. An overwhelming sense of flavor washes over me and I realize how hungry I really am. I eat the delicious food very quickly until I remember my family, practically starving in district twelve. I lose my appetite and push away my plate. "I'm tired. Where's my room?" I ask Luka. Luka sends a servant to show me to the right train cart, and I walk in and sit on a soft cream-colored bed. Now I finally have some time to myself to sit and think.

I sit there well into the night, watching blurry colors speed across my window until it's too dark to see. It's just all so revolting. The people of the Capitol, with an excess of food and all their other extravagances. They have all this, yet they still need to watch kids kill each other for entertainment. President Snow, the one whose sick and twisted mind came up with all this. And even the tributes, the poor kids who have to kill and die against their will, even they revolt me, because they just go along with it. They do what they're expected to do and play along with Snow's twisted rules. The people of the capitol and Snow made the games, made the rules, and even made this luxurious room.

I take a walk around the room, and notice the remote next to my bed. I click a red button, and the reaping from district one starts to play. A equally revolting announcer steps on the stage, and picks names from the bowl. Every time the announcer picks a name, a volunteer takes their place. This is what's so sick about the games, and about the Career districts. Although against the rules some kids train for years and years, and when the time comes, volunteer to go to the games.

Out of the volunteers, two kids look like threats. One, by the name of Philip Soter, is a muscular boy with broad shoulders and a smile colder than ice. His hands are bigger than my face, and he looks like he knows what he can do with a sword or some knives. The other threat is a girl named Juniper Sillas. Although she must be no taller than 5 feet, she has a cruel gleam in her eye that makes her look excited to kill. As she walks off the stage she seems to be muttering to herself. This is truly terrifying because if she's already cruel and a little crazy who knows what the arena will do to her.

I hear a knock at the door. Probably Argus. I yell that I don't want to finish dinner and when the door opens a little, I throw one of my pillows at it. The door closes, and I am left alone. I watch the screen as the kids from district two are reaped. The tributes, the second half of the career pack, look just as powerful as the kids from district one, but the only one who stands out is a particularly beautiful girl tribute, named Tabitha. I bet she'll get lots of sponsors. The only other kids I notice particularly are a boy from district four who is small but quick and a girl from district seven who seems very sure of herself. The rest of the tributes look too weak or stupid to pay attention too. I keep watching the broadcast until the exhaustion of the day overtakes me and I fall asleep.

I wake up with the video still going of the reaping. This time it is the reaping of the district 12 kids. Hector's name is called, and he steps on stage, looking confused and very sad. Then my name is called, and I look shocked. My blue eyes make me look vulnerable, since I'm still processing that I was picked, but once I reach the steps my face hardens and I look determined. I brush my hair away from my face, and shake Argus's hand. Then Eris is called, then Maysilee. Out of all of the tributes Maysilee looks like she might have the best chance of winning.

I look at the clock in my bed and realize it's only 10 pm. I feel hungry so I decide to go get more food from the dining hall, since I remember I only ate a couple bites of pasta. I walk through the hall and notice that Maysilee's room is open. She is pacing the floor, hands running through her hair, muttering to herself. She looks up from the floor and notices me. "Where did you go Haymitch? You missed a lot of things. We met Argus, and got some advice from Luka. If you want to last in the games you need to participate more, and become more likeable, because right now you're not doing a lot to get allies."

"Isn't Luka supposed to be my mentor, not you?" I tell her.

"Luka's your mentor, but I'm your friend. Don't you remember from school? I helped you out when you got into fights, and before you met Gwendolen I used to walk you home. We would make a good team, Haymitch. I could help you in the games, but you wouldn't want me as an enemy."

"Is that a threat? Look, Maysilee, I don't want allies. Just more friends you'll have to kill if you last long enough. I want to be by myself. I didn't asked to be reaped, I didn't ask to be part of the games. Just leave me alone ok? I need one mentor, not two. And I don't need any friends!" I begin to yell so loud that I wake up everyone in the train.

Argus comes out of his room, hair a mess, and starts yelling at me. "What are you doing Haymitch? It's 10 at night! You don't need to be yelling at your fellow tributes, you need to be making friends!"

"Argus is right," Maysilee says, eyes filled with tears, "You really do need to learn to make friends. You're going to have a hard time in the games, Haymitch, because you'll have no allies. Everyone will be against you. Have fun trying to survive." She whips her blonde hair as she goes into her room, and slams her door. Argus gives one final sigh and leaves to go to his room too. I am left alone in the hall, but I have been alone for a long time. I return to bed, forgetting about the food I was going to get. It takes me a long time to fall asleep, since I know that when I wake up I will have to meet my fellow tributes and the people of the Capitol.


	3. Meeting the Stylists

When I wake up in the morning it takes my mind a moment to catch up and remember everything that's happened. I had been dreaming of my family and Gwendolen, and I try to slip back into that dream, but the sunlight streaming through my window prevents me. Reluctantly, I throw myself out of my bed and put on the clothing laid out for me. Then I walk out the door and down the hallway to the dining cart, where Argus, Luka, Eris, and Maysilee are eating. My eyes meet Maysilee's, and I glare at her as I recall the events from last night. I see a flicker of pain cross her face before she looks away, and almost regret glaring. Almost. I look around the room, and notice that Hector is nowhere to be seen.

I sit down and start to eat the fancy toast laid out. It's warm and buttery, and covered with this sticky sweet syrup I recognize to be maple. Even an ounce of this stuff would cost a fortune in the district, but the people in the capitol have gallons to spare. Hector was right, we are eating like kings compared to the people of the districts. I'm extra hungry after denying my dinner last night and eat until I'm full. I stuff my pockets with the bread they leave at the table, since today we will be prepped by our stylist, and who knows how long that will take. I look up from my food and notice Maysilee looking at me again. We both look away, and shortly afterward I hear Maysilee ask Luka, "So, any advice for today?"

"Just do what you're told and try to be polite," Luka answers. Polite. We'll see about that. I look up and see that Hector has arrived and is dazedly looking out the window. I cross over to him and am dazzled by what I see. Huge, colorful buildings everywhere. They're all different shapes, and many of them have different decorations and bright lights on them, which are shining even though it's daytime. The artificial light is practically brighter than the sunlight and almost hurts my eyes. But even more startling than the buildings are the people. I already knew what the people in the Capitol generally looked like, but to have so many of them all around is a much different matter.

There were thousands of ways the people of the capitol did their hair, wore their clothes, colored their skin.

We enter the tribute center, and immediately I am whisked away by my stylist. You know how I was talking about how weird the people of the capitol were? My stylist is one of the weirdest looking. Her name is Hermia, and she has pink hair that stands straight up, and more piercings on her face that I can count. But that wasn't even the worst part. Her eyes were surgically enlarged and her nose was removed, giving her a disturbingly doll-like look. Hermia's helpers, Zenia and Doran, look a little less extreme than her, but still frightening. Zenia has white and black striped skin with bright yellow eyes, while Doran's most striking features are his oversized ears and neon green tattoos.

"Hello! I'm Hermia, this is Zenia, and this is Doran. We'll be your personal stylists for the time you'll be here in the capitol." She lets out a giddy laugh as she walks around me. Suddenly I feel very self conscious. "You're going to need a lot of work before you are seen by the people of the Capitol. Now put this on, and we'll take care of the rest." She hands me a papery robe, and leaves the room. A few minutes later, once I change, she comes back in the room with a psychotic smile and tools that seem fit for torture.

Hermia, Zenia, and Doran strip me of my clothes and spray me with a liquid which burns my skin. They spend a long time scrubbing all the dirt out of my skin, and remove my facial hairs individually with tweezers, which hurts more than the first time I shaved with a knife. Oils of all different thicknesses and scents are poured over me, and my hair is scrubbed until it feels like it's going to fall out. They put a cream onto my hair which smells toxic, and when it is washed out I realize that my hair is a couple tints lighter than it is naturally.

"What did you do to my hair?" I ask as they are brushing my teeth with something smells suspiciously like lemons.

"Don't worry, I just made it more…special!" Hermia says with a big smile. It's getting harder and harder to be "polite" when my prep team is so terrifying. "Alright honey, I think you're done. Here, look at the new Haymitch." I stare into a mirror and see someone who isn't me. My hair is as white as snow, my eyebrows are thin and arched mischievously, my teeth gleam whiter than my hair.

Zenia gasps. "He's so gorgeous! Don't you love it Haymitch?"

I'm at a loss for words. I am one of the Capitol's dolls. Although I look almost as bad as Hermia herself, I lie through my teeth, "I like it. I look… decent." I comfort myself with the fact that although they can control how I look, they can't control how I act. Hermia hands me a jet black suit with red gems on it.

"Now go on, honey, try it on. It's going to look so great on you!" She bats her unnaturally large eyes at me and tries to give me a reassuring smile. I put it on and when I come back to show her, she exclaims, "You look just like a coal! Isn't it brilliant?"

"Yeah," I respond, "Brilliant." I look at myself in the mirror, and I am horrified. My stylist is crazy. I am wearing a skin tight suit, which has red gems on the edges of my arms and legs. My hair contrasts with my suit, and makes me look ghastly pale. I look terrible. I'm not even sure Hermia has ever seen coal before in her life. My only reassurance is that the other district twelve tributes will probably look just as terrible.

Hermia grabs my hand and brings me to a large hall. I see Hector, who wears the same suit as me, and Eris and Maysilee are wearing equally as terrifying matching dresses. I almost laugh when I see the embarrassed look on Maysilee's face. No one says a word. We all walk together to where two black chariots with black horses wait. Argus and Luka are there too. They make Eris and Hector get on the first chariot together, and of course I have to stand with Maysilee on the second one. "Hey Haymitch? Can you just try and pretend you don't hate me?" she asks as we wait for our chariot's turn to go out.

"I'll try," I say with a hidden smirk. I look up and see Eris and Hector's chariot start to move. "Here we go," I whisper to myself as our chariot is pulled along the course to the Presidential mansion. We pass tens of thousands of people from Capitol, and they are all screaming our names.

A white rose catches in my hair and I pull it out. I hand it to Maysilee, and she takes it and throws it on the ground. "That's for yelling at me," she whispers in my ear, barely intelligible over the roaring crowd. I smile and turn away from her. Maybe I could have Maysilee as my ally. But then I think of Gwendolyn, how she would never forgive me if anything happened between me and Maysilee, even if it was staged, and I erase that idea from my mind. I look over the crowds and manage a few small waves. If I'm too unreachable I'll never get any sponsors. We pull up in front of the mansion, and President Snow steps out onto the podium.

"Hello people of the Capitol, tributes and fellow districts. Welcome to the second quarter quell. Twice as many tributes will enter the games, representing that for every Capitol citizen killed in the dark ages, two rebels died. I am pleased to welcome these tributes to the capitol. Let them be an example for the people from half a century ago who tried to rebel against the Capitol. Let them be an example that if anything like the Dark Ages was to happen again, it would have the same outcome. We will be happy to meet these tributes over the next week ." The huge screens show close-ups of each of the chariots and the tributes' faces. I see myself on the screen and am reminded of how horrific I look. Then the camera turns to Maysilee and I actually let out a laugh. She hits me with her elbow but a smile plays on her lips.

Our chariot returns to the hall where I meet the other tributes. Maysilee and I walk out of the chariot and follow Luka to our living quarters. We are brought to an elevator, which is only big enough to fit two people. Hector and I step into the elevator, which the floor, ceiling, and walls are glass, and we begin our ascent. A few seconds after we start, Hector turns to me. "What's your problem Haymitch? I've made friends with all of the tributes in our district but you. Why are you so unlikeable?"

"Well, I just think it's too risky to make friends with people I'm probably going to end up killing," I answer. That shuts him up.

We reach the floor designated to district twelve and step off of the elevator. Hector gives me one final glare, and we go to the dining hall. The other tributes, our stylists, our mentor, and Argus eventually arrive and we all sit down to dinner.

"We're gonna have to get through a lot before you're going to be ready for the games," Argus says, before sitting down.


	4. Advice from Luka

Once we start to eat, Luka and Argus inform us what the next few days will be like. "The next three days will be spent training for the arena," Argus explains. "All the tributes train together in a room below this building and practice important survival and weaponry skills.

"Don't we already know that?" Hector asks, trying to get the other tributes to laugh. Eris stifles a giggle.

Argus, slightly offended, interjects by saying, "I'm sorry, but it's my job to make sure you know exactly what's going on."

"And be sure not to show off your skills while your training," Luka adds.

"Don't worry," I answer, "I'm pretty sure none of us have been practicing with any weapons. We're not exactly careers." Maysilee laughs, Luka just glares at me. I should stop trying to get on Maysilee's good side, and try to get Luka to like me so I can get more advice, and have a better chance of winning the games. "Luka, how do we get the people of the Capitol to like us?"

Luka takes a moment to think about this, and finally comes up with an answer. "Be nice to Caesar, and develop a specific persona, that way the people of the Capitol can better identify with you. But we'll work on that more before the interviews at the end of your training."

"Well since we have a little time, I think we should work on this now. Remember, we have twice as many identities to build up this time," Argus chimes in. "Luka, do you want to take Hector and I'll work on Eris?"

Luka nods, and goes to leave the room, but sees us and calls, "Haymitch and Maysilee, we'll work on you guys in a while." They walk out of the room, leaving Maysilee and me alone.

Maysilee turns to me, and takes a deep breath. "Have you seen the other tributes? Have you thought about who you want to be as your allies?"

"I already told you I don't want allies, Maysilee," I look in her eyes and see that flicker of hurt again. I feel regret, so I fix my mistake. "But, if I were to have an ally, I might want Juniper from district one. She seems… cunning." Maysilee still seems hurt, and opens her mouth to speak, but doesn't say anything. "What's the matter Maysilee?" I lower my voice, since the Capitol has cameras all in the tribute center. "I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh, you mean beside the fact that we're about to be thrown into an arena to fight to death?"

"I'm being serious Maysilee, you can trust me. Why would I want to tell anyone anyway? It's not like I'm trying to make friends."

"It's just… I don't know, I guess I just wish you were more open to suggestions. You're kind of acting like your little brother." I remember Tristan and realize she's right. Tristan is one of the most stubborn kids I have ever known. Maybe it's because I know she's right, but I suddenly feel defensive.

"Well, maybe he got it from me. But we all have bad qualities, Maysilee, you're not any better than me. You're nosy, always trying to get into everyone's business. You're worse than the people of the Capitol."

This time it's not just hurt, but real anger on her face. It seems whenever we get together, we get in a fight. Hopefully that doesn't translate into the arena. Even though she annoys me, the more I talk to her the less I think I'd want to kill her, and I suddenly feel like having her as an ally might be a good idea.

"I give up!" Maysilee shouts in anger. "I'm done trying to help you." She shoves herself away from the dinner table and runs to her room. Once again, I'm left alone. At the same time Hector and Eris enter the room.

"What did you do this time, Haymitch?" Hector asks with a twinge of disrespect in his voice.

"I don't know Hector, let me just talk to Luka." I walk into the room where Luka is staying, and sit down. "Teach me how to get the Capitol to love me, Luka. I have to learn how to make friends, and as you can tell I need help with that."

"Okay, first of all, what makes you different? What makes you likeable?"

"Well, for starters I actually have a brain, unlike most of the other tributes."

"Humor. I'll take that. And you can play up the smart angle. The Capitol will eat that up." After a little while we have a character developed for me. I am the humorous, witty, bold kid from district twelve. After I answer a few practice questions from Luka in character, I have a question for Luka.

"How do you stand it?" I ask.

"Stand what?"

"Mentoring. Coaching kids just to watch them die. How can you stand it?"

"I don't. I just do what I'm told and try not to think about it. It's...not as easy for victors as you might think."

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind. Right now, my job is to help you stay alive. Let's do some more practice questions." After a few more minutes or so, I return to my bedroom.

Everything about the day has been difficult, and my brain is overloaded with things to think about. Even though there's so much going on right now, my brain drifts as I start to think about the past. I think of Gwendolen, and how much I miss her. Maybe it's the lavender scented pillows that remind me of the meadow where we met. It was a warm spring day, and the school day had just finished. As I walked home with Tristan, I noticed the lavender flowers blooming in the meadow near the Seam. Tristan and I started picking the flowers, but I stopped when I noticed a girl my age staring at us. I was only 13, so I had little experience with girls, but I walked up to her and asked her to pick flowers with us, not even knowing her name. She happily joined in, and when I looked over at her I saw a small smile on her face. "What?" I asked her, smiling with her. She shook her head, and then lied her back on the ground, looking at the clouds. Tristan followed her lead, and since I was done with the flowers, I lay down next to her. I breathed in the smell of the meadow, and watched the clouds with the prettiest girl in district twelve. That day was the beginning of a friendship that developed into something more.

I feel an ache start inside of me which spreads out until it threatens to destroy me. If I want to get back to Gwendolen I have to stop thinking of her. I tell myself to think of something else, but I can't. I fall asleep with the beautiful scene still in my mind, and my dreams are filled with lavender.


	5. Meeting the Other Tributes

When I wake up in the morning it takes my mind a moment to catch up and remember everything that's happened. I had been dreaming of my family and Gwendolen, and I try to slip back into that dream, but the sunlight streaming through my window prevents me. Reluctantly, I throw myself out of my bed and put on the clothing laid out for me. Then I walk out the door and down the hallway to the dining cart, where Argus, Luka, Eris, and Maysilee are eating. My eyes meet Maysilee's, and I glare at her as I recall the events from last night. I see a flicker of pain cross her face before she looks away, and almost regret glaring. Almost. I look around the room, and notice that Hector is nowhere to be seen.

I sit down and start to eat the fancy toast laid out. It's warm and buttery, and covered with this sticky sweet syrup I recognize to be maple. Even an ounce of this stuff would cost a fortune in the district, but the people in the capitol have gallons to spare. Hector was right, we are eating like kings compared to the people of the districts. I'm extra hungry after denying my dinner last night and eat until I'm full. I stuff my pockets with the bread they leave at the table, since today we will be prepped by our stylist, and who knows how long that will take. I look up from my food and notice Maysilee looking at me again. We both look away, and shortly afterward I hear Maysilee ask Luka, "So, any advice for today?"

"Just do what you're told and try to be polite," Luka answers. Polite. We'll see about that. I look up and see that Hector has arrived and is dazedly looking out the window. I cross over to him and am dazzled by what I see. Huge, colorful buildings everywhere. They're all different shapes, and many of them have different decorations and bright lights on them, which are shining even though it's daytime. The artificial light is practically brighter than the sunlight and almost hurts my eyes. But even more startling than the buildings are the people. I already knew what the people in the Capitol generally looked like, but to have so many of them all around is a much different matter.

There were thousands of ways the people of the capitol did their hair, wore their clothes, colored their skin.

We enter the tribute center, and immediately I am whisked away by my stylist. You know how I was talking about how weird the people of the capitol were? My stylist is one of the weirdest looking. Her name is Hermia, and she has pink hair that stands straight up, and more piercings on her face that I can count. But that wasn't even the worst part. Her eyes were surgically enlarged and her nose was removed, giving her a disturbingly doll-like look. Hermia's helpers, Zenia and Doran, look a little less extreme than her, but still frightening. Zenia has white and black striped skin with bright yellow eyes, while Doran's most striking features are his oversized ears and neon green tattoos.

"Hello! I'm Hermia, this is Zenia, and this is Doran. We'll be your personal stylists for the time you'll be here in the capitol." She lets out a giddy laugh as she walks around me. Suddenly I feel very self conscious. "You're going to need a lot of work before you are seen by the people of the Capitol. Now put this on, and we'll take care of the rest." She hands me a papery robe, and leaves the room. A few minutes later, once I change, she comes back in the room with a psychotic smile and tools that seem fit for torture.

Hermia, Zenia, and Doran strip me of my clothes and spray me with a liquid which burns my skin. They spend a long time scrubbing all the dirt out of my skin, and remove my facial hairs individually with tweezers, which hurts more than the first time I shaved with a knife. Oils of all different thicknesses and scents are poured over me, and my hair is scrubbed until it feels like it's going to fall out. They put a cream onto my hair which smells toxic, and when it is washed out I realize that my hair is a couple tints lighter than it is naturally.

"What did you do to my hair?" I ask as they are brushing my teeth with something smells suspiciously like lemons.

"Don't worry, I just made it more…special!" Hermia says with a big smile. It's getting harder and harder to be "polite" when my prep team is so terrifying. "Alright honey, I think you're done. Here, look at the new Haymitch." I stare into a mirror and see someone who isn't me. My hair is as white as snow, my eyebrows are thin and arched mischievously, my teeth gleam whiter than my hair.

Zenia gasps. "He's so gorgeous! Don't you love it Haymitch?"

I'm at a loss for words. I am one of the Capitol's dolls. Although I look almost as bad as Hermia herself, I lie through my teeth, "I like it. I look… decent." I comfort myself with the fact that although they can control how I look, they can't control how I act. Hermia hands me a jet black suit with red gems on it.

"Now go on, honey, try it on. It's going to look so great on you!" She bats her unnaturally large eyes at me and tries to give me a reassuring smile. I put it on and when I come back to show her, she exclaims, "You look just like a coal! Isn't it brilliant?"

"Yeah," I respond, "Brilliant." I look at myself in the mirror, and I am horrified. My stylist is crazy. I am wearing a skin tight suit, which has red gems on the edges of my arms and legs. My hair contrasts with my suit, and makes me look ghastly pale. I look terrible. I'm not even sure Hermia has ever seen coal before in her life. My only reassurance is that the other district twelve tributes will probably look just as terrible.

Hermia grabs my hand and brings me to a large hall. I see Hector, who wears the same suit as me, and Eris and Maysilee are wearing equally as terrifying matching dresses. I almost laugh when I see the embarrassed look on Maysilee's face. No one says a word. We all walk together to where two black chariots with black horses wait. Argus and Luka are there too. They make Eris and Hector get on the first chariot together, and of course I have to stand with Maysilee on the second one. "Hey Haymitch? Can you just try and pretend you don't hate me?" she asks as we wait for our chariot's turn to go out.

"I'll try," I say with a hidden smirk. I look up and see Eris and Hector's chariot start to move. "Here we go," I whisper to myself as our chariot is pulled along the course to the Presidential mansion. We pass tens of thousands of people from Capitol, and they are all screaming our names.

A white rose catches in my hair and I pull it out. I hand it to Maysilee, and she takes it and throws it on the ground. "That's for yelling at me," she whispers in my ear, barely intelligible over the roaring crowd. I smile and turn away from her. Maybe I could have Maysilee as my ally. But then I think of Gwendolyn, how she would never forgive me if anything happened between me and Maysilee, even if it was staged, and I erase that idea from my mind. I look over the crowds and manage a few small waves. If I'm too unreachable I'll never get any sponsors. We pull up in front of the mansion, and President Snow steps out onto the podium.

"Hello people of the Capitol, tributes and fellow districts. Welcome to the second quarter quell. Twice as many tributes will enter the games, representing that for every Capitol citizen killed in the dark ages, two rebels died. I am pleased to welcome these tributes to the capitol. Let them be an example for the people from half a century ago who tried to rebel against the Capitol. Let them be an example that if anything like the Dark Ages was to happen again, it would have the same outcome. We will be happy to meet these tributes over the next week ." The huge screens show close-ups of each of the chariots and the tributes' faces. I see myself on the screen and am reminded of how horrific I look. Then the camera turns to Maysilee and I actually let out a laugh. She hits me with her elbow but a smile plays on her lips.

Our chariot returns to the hall where I meet the other tributes. Maysilee and I walk out of the chariot and follow Luka to our living quarters. We are brought to an elevator, which is only big enough to fit two people. Hector and I step into the elevator, which the floor, ceiling, and walls are glass, and we begin our ascent. A few seconds after we start, Hector turns to me. "What's your problem Haymitch? I've made friends with all of the tributes in our district but you. Why are you so unlikeable?"

"Well, I just think it's too risky to make friends with people I'm probably going to end up killing," I answer. That shuts him up.

We reach the floor designated to district twelve and step off of the elevator. Hector gives me one final glare, and we go to the dining hall. The other tributes, our stylists, our mentor, and Argus eventually arrive and we all sit down to dinner.

"We're gonna have to get through a lot before you're going to be ready for the games," Argus says, before sitting down.


	6. Individual Assessments

The next two days of training continue much the same. I practice many different skills and talk to some tributes from other districts, but none of my friendships make any progress. Maysilee and Metis seem to get along very exceptionally, and I suddenly feel a twinge of jealousy, even though I don't want allies. I train by myself, but Juniper often helps me with shooting a bow and arrow, or Metis gives me tips on axe throwing.

After lunch on the third day it's time for individual assessments. District twelve always goes last, so soon the four of us are left alone in the lunchroom. First Hector goes, then it's my turn. I get up from the table I'm sitting at and walk toward the door.

"Hey Haymitch," Maysilee calls after me. "Good luck."

"Thanks. You too." I open the heavy door and walk into the assessment room. The room is eerily silent, since I am used to training in this room. I look over at the judges, and they are indulged in their food. Some are asleep, since they've been judging tributes for hours. I feel my heart beating in my chest, since the outcome of these assessments could save you or destroy you. If the sponsors see you get a high score, there will be a high chance they will help you in the games. This is the reason most of the careers win the games, because they get high scores from training illegally in the districts. A sponsor could save your life in the games. They can provide food, weapons, and water in the worst circumstances, which sometimes saves your life. The richest sponsors often give medicine to the wounded tributes, which saves them from near death. Many of the weapons used to kill the final tributes are given to the victors by sponsors.

As I turn my back on the sponsors, I scan the room, looking for the right weapon to use. I ponder my options, to use a knife, a bow, or an axe. Although I have been practicing with bows and axes while training for the last three days, I pick to throw a knife, since I've had more experience handling them in the butcher shop than any other weapons. I choose one of the sharpest knives, and press one of buttons which gives me a flying disc as a target. I look back at the judges, and see they're not paying much attention, but go ahead anyways. Unfocused and nervous, I throw the blade at the flying target, and miss completely, hitting the wall behind it. As my face turns red, I hear some laughs from the judges panel, and question the weapon I chose. Maybe I should throw an axe, since I used those during my training time and Metis has helped me a great deal. I decide to try again, one last time, because perhaps I could impress the judges if I hit the other target full on and redeem myself. I press a different button which sets off a different target, this time a fake bird. As the bird is launched in the air, I throw a different knife at the target, and it clips the wing, but the judges don't take any notice. I sigh, but try one more time, and take another bird out of the air. After my first failure, I don't think the judges have paid attention, which makes me question if I even have a chance at getting a score higher than five.

I look at the judges hopefully, but most are asleep. The head gamemaker clears his throat, then calls out in an unnecessarily loud voice, "That will be all, Haymitch Abernathy. You are dismissed." He presses a button and talks into a speaker: "Maysilee Donner, please enter the room for your individual assessment." I walk out of the room, annoyed with the game makers and with myself. Annoyed that they don't pay attention to something so important for the tributes, and annoyed that I couldn't impress them more. But I'll see by tonight if I impressed them enough, which is unlikely. I try to stay positive, because an underconfident tribute is almost as bad as a unskilled tribute.

After Maysilee and Eris finishes their individual assessments, we are brought back to the dinner table, where Argus, Luka, and the stylists are waiting. "How do you think you did?" Luka asks, full of concern.

Hector speaks first, "I totally nailed it. I shot a bow and arrow and it hit the target, but the judges didn't seem very interested." Maysilee rolls her eyes and looks at me, obviously annoyed by Hector's arrogant boasting.

"I made a net in less than 5 minutes with some of the most complicated knots yet none of them seem to notice. I could get a one or a twelve. I really have no idea," Eris adds.

"Me either," Maysilee chimes in, "I'm sure I'll be fine, though, since Metis has given me some great pointers, thanks to Haymitch." She gives me a smile and starts dinner. Just as Argus is about to say something, the Capitol anthem begins to play, and Caesar is shown on the screen.

"Hello people of the Capitol and the districts, I'm your host, Caesar Flickerman, and tonight we will be viewing the scores of the 48 tributes of the second Quarter Quell. Now, let's begin with Juniper Seaton, from district one." Juniper's cunning face appears on the screen, with a ten showing up on the screen. Sighs go around the room, since a ten is one of the highest scores given to the tributes.

"Off to a good start," Argus sighs. But, much to our surprise, no one else reached a ten other than Metis. We keep watching the faces and numbers appear on the screen, with little surprise. Those who are tall, muscular, or intelligent looking get higher numbers, while those who are smaller, younger, and weaker get numbers little above 5. Then we reach district 12. Eris's face appears on the screen, and we all hold our breaths as the number seven appears on the screen. She lets out a smile, eyes still trained on the screen. Next is Maysilee. Her blonde hair and startling blue eyes appear on the screen, with the number nine under her name. She stays silent, too surprised by the wonderful number she scored. Hector is next, with the score of four. I smile, since that is a disgraceful score, but stop once I see the hurt in his face.

Maysilee elbows me and I look towards her. "Don't worry Haymitch, you're going to be fine. You're skilled enough with a knife from working in the butcher shop."

"Thanks," I reply as I turn my eyes toward the screen one final time. This score, whether high or low, will determine how many sponsors or even allies I receive. I hold my breath, not sure what to expect. My face appears on the screen, and I take a shaky sip of water as I look towards the bottom of the screen. A three appears below my name, and I drop my glass. It shatters on the table, but I am too startled to notice. I have failed my assessment, but worse, I have lost my chances of ever going home.

Everyone's eyes are turned towards me as I stand up and brush the broken glass off my clothes, but I still stay silent. "Well, I'll be in my room," I say while I push in my chair, "and I would not like to be disturbed. If anyone tries to wake me up before 7, let me just say I've had experience butchering live animals." I grab a knife from the table, walk into my room, and fall onto my bed, eyes filling with tears.

After about 5 minutes, I hear a light knock on my door. "Didn't you hear me? I don't want anyone to talk to me," I stutter, choking on my tears.

"Can I please come in, Haymitch? I really need to talk to you," Maysilee answers, opening the door and stepping inside my room.

"Alright, come in Maysilee, but make it quick. I want to sleep, we have a very busy and full day tomorrow." She comes in and sits at the foot of my bed.

She takes a deep breath, and begins talking to me, "I'm really sorry you got such a low score tonight. You obviously shouldn't have, you're better physically than a lot of people at these games."

I look at her and I notice she seems very genuine, which reminds me of Gwendolen. "Thanks Maysilee, you don't know how much that means to me. I have a question, how did you get such a high score?"

"We all need our secrets, Haymitch. Maybe if we meet up in the games I'll tell you but for now, that's between me and the judges. I'm going to bed now, because according to you, 'we have a very busy and full day tomorrow.'" She tries to mock my voice, but only ends up looking like an idiot. "Goodnight, Haymitch. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight," I call after her. She closes the door and I try to go to sleep, but I am haunted by my terrible score and the feeling that I will be trapped in an arena filled with bloodthirsty teens in only two days.


	7. Interviews

I awake to a knock on my door and an immediate feeling of dread. Today will be spent prepping for the interviews with Caesar Flickerman tonight, and I'm not looking forward to it after finding out my score last night. That three pretty much guaranteed that I won't get many sponsors, but if my interview goes well I will at least have a fighting chance. My brain knows this and wants to make sure I'm prepared, but honestly the rest of me couldn't care less.

The first bit of my day is spent answering more practice questions with Luka since I already have my persona picked out, but this time I have to answer the questions more in depth. The more questions I answer the more I feel like it's all just a waste of time because I'm probably going to die anyway, but I keep answering them anyway. If I can't get through this interview I'm as good as dead already.

After I finish with Luka I have some time to kill before meeting with Argus. I wander around our floor of the training center and press all the buttons and levers I find just to see what will happen. One of them opens up a secret hatch in the kitchen containing a delicious chocolate dessert which I eat on sight, some make different walls and dividers go up and down, and another turns an entire wall into a window. Eventually I have to stop wandering because it's time to meet up with Argus.

Instead of working on character, Argus helps me with stuff like hand gestures, speech, and even how to walk properly. After only a few minutes I start to hate this session, so by the time twenty minutes have gone by I stop trying. Argus quickly gets frustrated with my lack of effort , and says, "You should be ashamed of yourself for acting this way after everything I and the citizens of the Capitol have done to make you comfortable."

That's it. I walk up to Argus, resist the urge to slap him in the face, then turn on my heel and leave the room. I go to a comfy nook I found in my wanderings and wait for someone to find me. I'll stay here until I have to go get dressed up my stylist for the interview. I hug my knees and put my head down. And wait.

I don't realize I had fallen asleep until I'm being shaken awake by Hector, who was sent to find me. "We have to go, now," he tells me. "They're waiting for us." I follow without a response and join the other district twelve tributes before we head off to the rooms behind the stage where we will be interviewed. Our stylists wait for us there.

"There you are!" Hermia exclaims when she sees me, "I have the perfect outfit picked out for you!"

I'm scared already. I take the clothing hanger handed to me and start to put on the clothing with the help of Zenia and Doran. Once I am fully clothed, I look into the mirror and see an outfit much more disturbing than the one I wore in the chariots. I am wearing an all black suit, with flecks of grey and white in it. The suit wouldn't be terrible, if it weren't for the tie. The tie, if you can call it that, is shaped to appear like coal, with its blocky shape and it's chalky texture.

Hermia gasps when she sees me, "You look absolutely P-E-R-fect! The Capitol is going to love you!" She kisses my cheek and when she turns to get the makeup, I wipe it off with my sleeve. Hermia turns to look back at me, and shakes her head. "Haymitch, you have to be careful what you touch. I enhanced the fibers of your suit with coal dust, so it would seem more like coal. Everything you touch tonight will turn black if you're not careful." I glance at myself in the mirror and realize she is right. My face and neck are streaked with black.

"How will I be able to shake Caesar's hand or eat anything?" I ponder, perplexed.

"Oh silly," Zenia calls, "You're not going to do either of those things! Just sit tight now and let us fix up that horrible face of yours." Although these stylists have a worse style choice than Argus, I'm a little hurt by that comment. They slather on a soft cream which erases all blemishes, then shade different parts of my face. Once they style my hair I'm ready to go.

I wait behind the stage with the other tributes until Caesar Flickerman, this year with forest green hair and a dark blue suit, introduces himself, and starts the interviews. The tributes from district twelve go last, and with double the usual amount of tributes I still have a long time to wait, but at least I can watch the interviews on the many screens backstage.

Juniper goes first. She speaks well and looks good in her gem-covered dress, and the audience immediately likes her. Philip, the tall, muscular boy, goes next, and his dark outfit somehow makes him look even more powerful and deadly than he was before. Tabitha dazzles the audience with her breathtaking flowy silver dress and silver tiara, both of which are encrusted with tiny diamonds that sparkle delicately and send little rainbows over her flawless skin and long-lashed eyes that shine like the diamonds. The small boy from district four who I noticed when I watched the reaping is very witty, and Metis doesn't seem a bit nervous, although she is dressed like a tree. Eris is fairly quiet but does well, and Maysilee definitely makes a good impression with her smart answers and relaxed attitude, and although her dress isn't very flattering her smile wins the Capitol over. Hector does tolerably well, then it's my turn.

A man wearing all black calls my name, and I shakily get up and collect myself before walking out onto the stage. Caesar introduces me to the audience and I sit in a chair across from him. "Haymitch, so glad you're here with us. How do you feel knowing the games are so soon?"

"Well, I'm not exactly thrilled," I return.

"You know this hunger games will be very different than the ones you've watched. How do you think having twice the amount of tributes in the arena will affect your chances of winning?"

"I don't see how it'll make much of a difference. They're still going to be just as stupid."

"Is that so?" Caesar laughs, and most of the audience joins in. After a moment he asks, "How have you been liking your time in the Capitol?"

"Oh, it's been very… luxurious," I say with a bitter laugh.

"And what was your favorite part?"

"Probably all the secret nooks and hatches I found on our floor in the training center," I say. "Especially the ones with food in them." The audience laughs again.

"Do you have a girl back home, Haymitch?"

I smile as I remember Gwendolen, "Yes I do."

"Oh? How did she react when you were reaped?" Caesar asks, trying to get the juicy details for the capitol audience.

"She was sad, of course, but I promised her I'd win. Or at least I'll try."

Caesar gives an understanding nod and continues to interrogate, "One last question before you go Haymitch," Caesar says. I tense up. "is your suit supposed to represent coal?"

I let out a breath of relief. I was worried he was going to mention my score. Then I answer, "Yes, my stylist Hermia designed it to look looked coal."

"It looks wonderful," Caesar lies. "Thank you for talking with us, Haymitch. Our time is up now, but we're all looking forward to seeing you in the arena!" The audience cheers and claps, and I start to feel sick as I put on a fake smile and exit the stage. Everyone's waiting for me in the back.

Maysilee wraps her arms around me and whispers, "You did great Haymitch, everybody loved you. When you were up there, the whole backstage was silent. I don't know if that's good or bad, but I'd like to think that's good." She gives me a smile and I thank her. We enter the elevator together, and I notice she's covered with the coal dust from my suit.

"Maysilee, look at your dress. I guess that's what you get for hugging me," I tease. She scowls at me as she brushes the coal dust off her dress, but that action only causes the dust to spread.

"Oh no," Maysilee calls in a loud, monotone voice as she enters the dining hall, "My dress is ruined. I guess I will have to throw it away." Maysilee's stylists rush to her, and cry out in anguish. They rush her to her room, and I am left alone with Hector and Eris.

"Good job, both of you," Hector states sincerely, "I wish I didn't have to face you in the games." He heads to his room, with Eris trailing behind him. The day is done, so I grab one of the orange cream filled pastries and walk into my room. I lie down and finish the dessert, but unlike the other nights in the capitol I do not find comfort in the luxuries of the capitol, since I know that this is the last time I will ever be in a bed.


	8. The Blood Bath

Although I know a good night of sleep is necessary for the games, I don't seem to be able to find any. After about 2 hours of restlessness, I walk out of my room, and onto the couch in front of the large screen. I begin to watch the interviews again, so I might get better insight on my competitors for tomorrow. Just as a small, fragile 12 year old boy from district eight steps on stage and is greeted by Caesar, a person appears at my left. It is Maysilee, and judging by the circles under her eyes she has not found sleep either. "Hey," I call to her, "I'm watching the interviews. Want to sit?" She nods but first grabs two pastries from the tables behind us, and a glass of water.

"I think out of the careers Juniper and Philip are going to be our biggest threats," she observes as she bites into the cream filled dough. "They'll obviously be the big killers in the blood bath. But I don't know if they're intelligent enough to outsmart the cunning ones like Metis."

"Are you and Metis planning on being allies during the whole games? Have you worked out a plan?"

"Yes, I believe she told me to meet her after the first day, at the water source. There's bound to be a lake or pond somewhere, since the people of the capitol don't find enjoyment in tributes dying of dehydration." After a pause she asks, "Are you still planning on being alone?"

"Yeah. I don't want to risk my ally turning on me halfway through the games," I reply, remembering how Dregea Mikos from district one won the games last year. On day seven of the games, when she had night watch, she turned on the career pack and killed them all, and since there was only two people left in the games she tracked them down and killed them too.

"If Metis and I last that long, I might leave her too." We sit in silence, and after a while, she lays her head on my shoulder and falls asleep. I take her hand and hold it, missing moments like these I had with Gwendolen. After a while, I drift off to sleep, smelling the scent of cinnamon from her hair.

When it's time to get ready for the arena the next morning, Argus wakes us up. We get up from the couch and face each other. "I'll be with you on the hovercraft," I say with a lump in my throat, and she lets go of my hand. We embrace and walk towards the door, where Luka and Argus are waiting.

"You'll be taken to the hovercraft and they'll put a tracker in you. Don't worry, it doesn't hurt too much, only when you struggle. Just be quiet and do what you're told. This is the last time I'll be seeing you, and Argus too." He and Argus hugs us all, and all the tributes of district twelve are taken up to the hovercraft by the peacekeepers.

"Hey," Maysilee calls after she sits down next to me. "Are you ready?"

I shake my head, and wait to respond until the peacekeeper injects the tracker into my arm. "I'm not sure what these clothes mean. There could be so many options for the climate with what we are wearing."

"Yeah, I'm just not sure I'm going to be able to survive. Many people die in the games from exposure or dehydration."

As we take off, I notice Maysilee is clutching something in her hand. "What is that?" I ask her.

"It's my token. A necklace my mother gave me before I left the district. It was the only thing she had." She hands me the gold chain, and our hands meet. She looks at me and smiles, "It's called a locket. There's a picture inside of my mother and my father." She opens the necklace for me and I hold it, longing to have something memorable from my family. After a while I close it and hand it back to her, and we sit in silence for the ride. As we land outside the arena, I turn to Maysilee."Well, goodbye," I say slowly, hoping she doesn't hear the pain in my voice. Next time we see each other she'll probably be trying to kill me.

"Bye Haymitch. Please, don't do anything stupid. And whatever you do, don't die." She grins as we unclip our seatbelts and hug for the last time, and when I let go I can see the tears in her eyes. Prolonging this moment will only make me less focused at the games, so I smile at her and turn towards my stylists, who whisk me away to a room.

Hermia smile as she hands me my outfit, this year black shorts made of a coarse material, and a grey tight shirt paired with grey shoes with black laces. After I put it on, I face my stylists. As she plucks a skew eyebrow hair, Hermia tells me, "You look wonderful. You need to stay focused during the games, Haymitch," which are the first words out of her mouth that seem to make sense. She pulls me into a tight hug, and says, "If my tear ducts weren't removed, I would be crying. Now get in the tube, you only have 30 seconds left."

I notice she is right, and after saying my goodbyes to both Zenia and Doran, I step inside the clear tube. As the voice of the head game maker counts down from ten, a glass cylinder closes around me. The glass blocks out the sound of the crying stylists, and the voice, which brings me into focus. I am slowly lifted up into the arena that will be my home for the next 2 weeks, and the beauty of the arena catches me off guard. Every part of this arena is amazing, whether it be the glistening sweet smelling meadow or the cyan blue sky. To add on to the wonders of the arena, there is a lush dark green forest to my right, and a snow capped mountain behind the meadow. I look at the tributes standing in the podiums next to me and realized they are also dazed by the beauty of the arena. I hear the count of the head game maker in the background, and realize my focus should be getting supplies from the cornucopia, not admiring the arena. But it is too late. The second Quarter Quell has begun.

I dash off the platform and toward the Cornucopia as soon as the timer runs out, and look around me for competition but notice many of the other tributes are still dazzled by the unusual arena and do not realize the games have begun. But by the time I reach the center and I grab a knife, I see that several careers are approaching fast. After I throw on a backpack, I run out of the way only to bump into another tribute. I look up. Hector. I am caught up in the rush, I need to get out. I ignore the scared look on Hector's face and plunge my knife into his chest. His blood seeps through my fingers as I pull the knife away. His eyelids flutter and he falls to the ground. I look around and notice Juniper's cunning eyes locked on to mine as she begins to chase me down. I run as fast as I can into the woods, and only after I know I am safe do I turn back to face the cornucopia. In place of the lush grass where the meadow was is red, red everywhere. The ocean of blood engulfs everything around it, and it covers the fallen tributes littered around the cornucopia. I look down at my trembling hands and noticed they too are covered, with the blood of my fellow tribute Hector.

I look up when I hear a rustle in the leaves above me. A golden squirrel, the size of a cat, peers down at me with his glittering eyes. I don't like the look, so I decide to move on. I start to walk and hear the cannons go off from the blood bath. I count in my head, and once the cannons stop I process how many died in a little under an hour. 18. I am startled only to remember there are twice as many tributes in this Quarter Quell, which means twice as many deaths. As I walk, I open the backpack I snagged from the cornucopia. There are matches, a tarp, a canister of water, a couple rolls of crackers, and some dried strawberries.

I hear a scream very close behind me and begin to sprint until I cannot feel my legs, and end up in a meadow. Flowers cover the ground along with clover and sweet grass, and I smile as I breathe in the scent of daffodil.

I become alert when I see one of the tributes from district 11 standing near the flowers, but it does not seem like she is aware of my presence. She kneels down and picks one of the daffodils, and smells it. The sound of coughing breaks the voices of the birds and the girl turns towards me. She seems to be trying to say something, but the coughing takes her breath away. As she walks towards me, she falls in a heap. Seeing she is unarmed I rush towards her, and she beckons to come closer. As I kneel down beside her, I make out a few words, "Flowers…fruits…butterflies…are poisonous. Everything...is poisonous." She falls limp, the cannon fires, and the birds begin to sing again.

If what the girl says is true, then this arena is a trap. The beauty of it is meant to destroy you. I leave the meadow afraid of this arena, afraid of the tributes, and afraid of what will happen next.


End file.
